


Good Old-Fashioned Bubble Boy

by LydianNode



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Bubble Bath, M/M, a teeny bit of salty angst, basically this is just tooth-rotting fluff, bathing lovers, bring a toothbrush, but it's quickly resolved, implied past relationship problems, implied sexual situations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2020-03-17 23:03:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18974254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LydianNode/pseuds/LydianNode
Summary: Freddie takes a bath. Jim helps.When Freddie sighed happily, Jim felt a wave of affection that almost brought tears to his eyes. If Freddie craved the love he'd been missing all these years—and how bad, exactly, had the former boyfriends been that Freddie was left with such chaotic notions of what constituted love?—then Jim was determined to give it to him, to lavish Freddie with so much love that he'd never feel lonely again.





	Good Old-Fashioned Bubble Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [the video](https://youtu.be/8F1_Yycs0-Y) of Jim watching Freddie play with a mountain of bubbles in his tub. Because early-days Jim and Freddie are the sweetest, most adorable couple ever.
> 
> Yes, this is a departure from my usual angst-fests, but I needed something light before delving back into the darkness. :)

"Cooee!" 

Jim looked up from the kitchen table, eyes wide with surprise. He was used to hearing Freddie's voice calling him from various places in the house, especially the bedroom window. What startled him this evening was the booming, resonant cry from the master bathroom. 

What in the world could Freddie possibly want? 

Freddie had announced that he was going to have a bath, then kissed Jim on the cheek and bounded up the stairs with his wine glass in hand. That was twenty minutes ago; he'd had plenty of time for a nice soak. Perhaps Freddie had dropped his flannel or run out of wine. Jim shook his head, smiling at the vagaries of his lover's personality. 

"Give me a minute," he replied.

"Jim, darling, do hurry!"

"Is it an emergency?" Jim called back, rolling his eyes. 

Freddie's voice changed from petulant to insistent. "Yes! I need you up here right now!"

"On my way!" Jim shouted. He set aside the dishcloths he was folding, raced to the staircase, and took the steps two at a time. Had Freddie slipped and hit his head, or hurt his hands? Heart pounding, he rounded the corner into the bathroom and skidded slightly on the smooth marble floor. "What's happened?" he panted. 

Freddie certainly looked just fine. He was leaning against one wall of the tub surround, the half-full wine glass held regally in a soapy hand. "THERE you are, at last. I've called and called—" 

"I thought you were hurt!" Jim exclaimed. 

Freddie tilted his head. His dark eyes glistened with mischief. "I AM hurt, darling. I've been up here all alone for absolute AGES!" 

In equal measure exasperated and amused, Jim folded his arms. "I'm in love with a maniac," he muttered. "Seriously, Freddie, the way you yelled made me think you'd had some kind of accident." 

"Sorry, darling," Freddie murmured. His voice, low and sweet, sent Jim's heart beating faster. 

Then Freddie batted his eyelashes at him, and all hope was lost.

"So, you called me up here because...?" 

"Do I need a reason? Can't I just miss you?" 

"I'm right here." 

"Well, you weren't five minutes ago, and that's just unacceptable!" 

It had taken Jim a while to learn that Freddie's petulance was often a smokescreen to disguise a deep-seated terror of loneliness. He took a long breath and let it out slowly, making sure Freddie could see his smile. "Would you like me to wash your back?" he asked. 

"And my hair, please." Such simple words, yet from Freddie's lips they sounded like pure flirtation. 

"Your wish is my command." Jim removed his shirt, leaving him in a white cotton tank that would dry quickly. His khaki trousers would protect his knees a bit as he knelt beside the tub. "Is the water hot enough?" 

Freddie nodded with a shy smile. "I just ran a bit more. And added more bubbles, of course." 

Jim took a clean flannel from the edge of the tub and dipped it in the soapy water. "You do love your bubbles," he said as he started rubbing long strokes across Freddie's back. Jim loved Freddie's skin, the healthy golden colour shimmering with water and bath oils. He kissed the curving, tender place where neck joined shoulder, earning a musical hum from Freddie.

"Keep going," Freddie insisted as he drained the last of his wine and placed the glass at the far corner of the tub. 

Using both hands to trace along Freddie's back to his waist, Jim was amazed at just how small that waist was, narrow enough that his hands could almost span it. Freddie looked so delicate that it was easy to forget his wiry strength as he bent impossibly backwards to rest his head against Jim's collarbone. 

"My bendy boy," Jim whispered. He'd never had a lover so finely-boned, much less with that level of flexibility, and he found those traits utterly captivating. When Freddie sighed happily, Jim felt a wave of affection that almost brought tears to his eyes. If Freddie craved the love he'd been missing all these years—and how bad, exactly, had the former boyfriends been that Freddie was left with such chaotic notions of what constituted love?—then Jim was determined to give it to him, to lavish Freddie with so much love that he'd never feel lonely again. 

When Freddie grinned widely, showing dimples and teeth, Jim was once again struck by his extraordinary good looks. He dunked the flannel in the bubbles and ran it up and down Freddie's chest. "How did you even get to be this pretty?" 

Freddie blinked at him and cocked his head to one side. "Pardon?"

"I mean it." Jim touched each part of Freddie's face as he named it. "Those cheekbones, and your dimples, and those charming brown eyes. You're just stunning." 

"Stunning?" Freddie laughed, waving dismissively and releasing a cloud of bubbles. "Darling, have you seen the men in my band? Have you seen ROGER?" 

Ah, yes. Sun-kissed Roger, with his porcelain skin and deep-sea eyes, the one all the women (and not a few men) lusted after. Although he had a connoisseur’s appreciation of Roger's good looks, Jim simply didn't care for blonds. He shrugged. "Not my type." 

"Your type, if I recall correctly, is 'bears.' Which I am not." 

Jim watched as Freddie turned around in the tub, bath oil gleaming along the sleek sinews of his arms and back. "No, you're more of an otter." 

"You're fired," pouted Freddie. 

"Otters are adorable, Fred." Freddie shut his eyes, drew his knees close to his chest and covered himself in an island of bubbles. Smirking, Jim added, "Otters remind me of cats. Aquatic cats." 

Freddie opened one eye. "You're re-hired. But watch yourself." He turned his back to Jim and rubbed against him. "My left shoulder itches." 

"Yes, sir." Jim washed the offending area, kneading the muscles as he went, and soon Freddie was almost purring his pleasure. "Come closer, love. Let me show you just how fabulous you really are." 

With a small squeak of arse against marble, Freddie scooted to the very rim of the tub. Bubbles and bath oil got all over Jim's shirt, a small price to pay for being able to be this close to his man. He rubbed along Freddie's upper arms and across his back, strong fingers delving into the knots caused by long hours at the piano. 

Freddie let out a blissful squeal. "Ooh! What big, strong hands you have!" 

Jim laughed. "The better to wash your hair with, my dear. One second." He reached for the shampoo bottle and massaged some of the fragrant soap between his palms, then ran it through Freddie's hair. The combination of shampoo and steam from the hot bath brought out the deep curls Freddie insisted on concealing. Jim played with the waves at Freddie's nape. "I wish you'd grow your hair out just a bit and let it curl. It's a sin to waste such gorgeous curls when they're so glossy and black - that look would be stunning onstage." 

"Oh, I don't know. Let Brian have the only curly hair in the group." He flicked his head, unleashing a swath of foam. 

"Yours are prettier than his," Jim declared as he curved another tendril around his finger. "You'd put him to shame." 

"I wouldn't want to bruise his poor ego..." 

"Bruise it? How? Freddie, his ego has a half-life!" 

Freddie turned around and grasped Jim's wrist. The look in his dark eyes was pained. "Darling, you mustn't say that about Brian." 

Confused and taken aback, Jim sputtered, "YOU say that about Brian. I've heard you. And Roger and John as well." 

"That? Band meeting spats, that's all. Don't you ever fight with your family? It's like that with us; we vent, but none of us takes it all that seriously." Freddie scooped up a handful of bubbles and regarded them. "I think Deacy does, sometimes. We should be more careful what we say around him. He could pop, just like these." He blew gently on the pile of iridescent bubbles and the ones on top burst open.

Jim was very fond of John, finding in him a quiet kindred spirit who had a genuine concern for Freddie. "He's a good soul, that one. Roger, too, for all his bluster," he added as he massaged Freddie's scalp. 

Freddie let out a content sigh, then leaned on Jim's shoulder to look up at him with appealingly warm eyes, black lashes fluttering slightly. "I'm sorry you aren't fond of Brian, dear." 

Helpless against Freddie's blatant flirting, Jim decided to set aside his opinion of Brian as cold and exacting and resolved to look for hidden depths instead. "If it means that much to you, I'll try harder to get to know him." 

He bent over to kiss Freddie, who drew back but rested one hand on Jim's cheek. "My Brimi is a lot like his star-sign: Cancer, the crab. It takes a lot of work to get through the shell, but what's beneath is all the more precious for the effort. Sound like anyone you know?" 

"Someone I know and love," Jim whispered. 

"Ah, you get it now." Freddie leaned forward and placed a tender kiss on the corner of Jim's mouth. "The best things in life are the ones that take some effort." 

Jim remembered the early days, when he wasn't at all certain that he wanted Freddie's advances, much less a full-out relationship, and yet here he was, kneeling beside the ridiculously large marble tub to bathe the man he adored beyond measure. "Did I take a lot of effort?" 

"Darling, it was EXHAUSTING to get your attention and keep it. I all but wasted away!" Freddie blew him a soapy kiss, then put his hands on Jim's shoulders and murmured against his mouth, "But it was all worth it in the end." 

Whatever good fortune had put this sweetheart of a man in his path, Jim would never know. Here was Freddie, music legend and superstar, who could work with anyone in the world, who could charm any man or woman he gazed at. But he had chosen Jim, had pursued him, had remained insistent in the face of so many refusals. 

Cradling Freddie's head as gently as if it had been a soap bubble, Jim gave him another kiss, and another. "I do love you, Freddie," he sighed. 

"Good." Freddie splashed around for a moment, then grinned up at Jim. "You haven't finished with my bath yet - my hair's still coated in shampoo!" 

"I'm on it," Jim replied. He felt Freddie bending backwards again—did the man actually have a spinal column?—until he went under the water. "That's not going to get the soap OUT," he remarked as he helped Freddie sit back up again and began dabbing his ears with a dry towel. "Now your hair's covered in different soap. Wait, let me do it." 

He stood up and reached for the hand-held showerhead. Turning it away from Freddie, who seemed to have become engrossed in making some sort of bubble sculpture, he turned on the tap and tested the temperature against his wrist. 

Freddie peered at him from his foamy nest. "What're you doing?" 

"Making sure it's not too hot and not too cold. Just right." Freddie snorted but still looked up at Jim with adoring eyes. Jim placed his hand on Freddie's forehead to shield his eyes from the spray. Rinsing Freddie's hair felt like a kind of baptism, a cleansing of whatever demons kept haunting him. When he was certain that all traces of shampoo had been washed away he turned the tap off again and cupped Freddie's face in his palms. "All done, love." 

"I don't want to get out; I still have bubbles." Freddie's lower lip jutted forward, the moue rather undone by the twinkle in his eyes as he rose and let Jim wrap him in an enormous, fluffy towel. 

"I'll run you another bath tomorrow, how's that?" Jim asked as he rubbed up and down Freddie's slim frame until he practically glowed. 

Stepping out of the towel and kicking it aside, Freddie draped his still-damp arms around Jim's neck. "And what can I do for you tonight to pay you back for all this attention?" he inquired. 

Jim knew the drill, had experienced the torrent of insecurity that always poured from Freddie after even the simplest of favours. Phoebe had taken Jim aside early on and gently explained that Freddie was only accustomed to people taking from him, and the thought still tugged painfully at Jim's generous heart. "Not a thing, Freddie." 

Freddie blinked at him, frank incomprehension playing across his features. "Oh," was all he said, the words falling softly from his lips. 

"Let's go have a cuddle, shall we?" Jim asked, a thrill of love passing through him at Freddie's delighted grin. They walked hand in hand to the bed and lay down atop the duvet, Freddie's wet head resting on Jim's chest. Freddie's body, lean and limber, curved itself around Jim like a clinging vine. 

Cultivating Freddie like a garden would take time and patience, Jim thought as he played with the wavy hair at Freddie's temple. Sorrow grew in him like weeds with long roots, but he would dig them out and plant beautiful flowers in their place: constancy to replace the treachery Freddie had borne, kindness instead of cruelty, love instead of the baser forms of lust. 

He thought about the garden, THEIR garden, and what he could plant to bring Freddie the most happiness. _Sweet, old-fashioned flowers will be best_. _Yellow roses for joy_ , Jim thought as Freddie's breathing deepened. _Delicate, complex Queen Anne's Lace_. _Sunflowers, because I adore him so much. Oh, and daffodils._ He traced the outline of Freddie's face with one finger, then tenderly kissed him on the forehead.

 _Daffodils, for our new beginning._   

**Author's Note:**

> With thanks to royaltyisshe64 for beta, encouragement, and hand-holding.
> 
> I have a tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/lydiannode - come talk to me!


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